


Your Stare Makes Me Freeze But I Can’t Stay Still

by DontOffendTheBees



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mirror Sex, Porn with Feelings, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-02 16:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12730326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: "Want me to prove it?""...What?""Prove it. Prove to you that you're perfect. I can do it!"Right. Sure he could. Todd rolls his eyes, but honestly, it's sweet of him to try. He could humour him. Just for a bit. "Okay. Sure. Prove it."He half expects Dirk to go rummaging round for a piece of paper to start a bullet-pointed list. Or maybe just start pointing at bits of Todd's face and appreciatively babbling.But instead he takes Todd by the shoulders, turning him round to face the mirrored wall, and smiles as their eyes meet in it. "Then stay right there, and watch."In which Todd has a crisis of self-confidence, and Dirk is determined to dig him out of it by any means necessary.





	Your Stare Makes Me Freeze But I Can’t Stay Still

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello, hello! It's ol' bees, back with the PWP that absolutely no one asked for!
> 
> Unless otherwise stated in my fics, I always have Todd down as bi and Dirk down as demi-gay, that doesn't come up in this fic but it is still the case. However, unlike in my other NSFW fic, Dirk possesses a degree of sexual experience in this one that he didn't in the other. Don't worry, he's still our goofy Dirk, he's just pretty good at using that mouth for things other than talking his assis-boyfriend's ear off!
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy- and thanks to some really cool buds for encouraging me with this fic and reading it over, y'all are stars and I dedicate this filthy slutty boinking to you!
> 
> Title from _I Feel Everything_ by Cara Delevigne (sexy sexy song I likey very much)
> 
> Specific content tags/warnings: Anal sex, rimming, fingering, feelings and crying and shit, gross nerds in love

It isn’t the first time they’ve left town on a case. Definitely isn’t the first time they’ve stayed away overnight on one. But this, this is one _hell_ of a step up from their last experience- which involved a holey tent, a particularly stubborn and assholish wasp, and a single sleeping bag that was way too small for two grown men.

They made do, though. And maybe had a bit more fun than they should’ve in a tent, out in the open, on a case. But that was between them, mother nature, and the wasp.

This, though, _this_ is more like it. Not only were they staying in a hotel this time, but a clerical error at reception had got them bumped up to the goddamn _penthouse._ The living room alone is twice as big as Todd's entire apartment, and about seventeen times as fancy. Still kinda cosy, though- Todd imagines living in one of Dirk’s hot cocoas would be kind of like this. The underfloor heating toasts his feet through his worn-out socks, the fluffy white couches bob about invitingly on the plush brown carpet like marshmallows, the air is filled with the scent of something sweet and spicy from the freshly refilled dispersers. Todd had spent enough time working on the fringes of places catered to the rich and pretentious to know they rarely came quite this homey.

But this room did have _something_ in common with just about every other rich person environment he'd ever come across. And that was the need to announce its shiny state-of-the-art-ness with as many matching shiny surfaces as possible.

"Jesus," Todd grumbles, scowling at the polished chrome kitchen walls- nestled nicely between the polished chrome counter and the polished chrome cupboards. There was altogether too much chrome going on. The amount of time and care that must go into maintaining it would have probably been enough to keep the Titanic afloat. "Do rich people get like, _sick_ if they go more than five minutes without checking themselves out?"

“Hmm?”

Todd glances over at Dirk, who’s engrossed in the intensive task of carefully arranging his hair and jacket in the reflective surface of the microwave, and sighs. “Why do I even bother?”

He looks over Dirk’s shoulder, and catches sight of himself in the shiny chrome. He looks washed out, drained and haggard from the journey, hair a greasy mess because showering had been lower on his priorities than just making sure they both got onto their plane on time without incident[1].

Dirk catches his eye, and he hastily averts them. “Uh,” he mutters, shouldering his backpack.  “I'm… gonna go unpack.

He gets the barest glimpse of Dirk's bewildered look in the mirror before he turns his back on it.

 

* * *

 

Fortunately, the bedroom doesn't have anywhere near as many reflective surfaces- and Todd is more than happy to divert the majority of their non-case related activities there.

 _Un_ fortunately, he had to emerge from their safe cocoon of sex and blankets _sometime_.

He shuffles barefoot into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. It's way too fucking early. He's gonna need some coffee before he can even think about investigating penguins or whatever the fuck it is today. Preferably injected directly into his veins, but he'll settle for downing a mug or two.

He has his bleary eyes to thank for the fact that he gets halfway through his coffee ritual before he sees his reflection.

“Shit,” he mutters, ducking his head. _Not_ what he wanted to see first thing in the morning. He angrily slams a couple of shiny cupboard doors in his search for a mug, catching the same view in each and every one because rich people are fucking sadists. Narcissists. Sadonarcissists. Is that a thing? Probably, everything's a thing.

“Todd?”

Todd starts away from the counter, and scowls over at Dirk in annoyance.  “ _Jesus_. I should make you wear a bell or something.”

Dirk smirks from the doorway, pointing at himself. “Ninja, remember?”

“You're so full of shit.”

“Todd, I'm not sure quite how to ask this, but… were you just growling at the crockery cupboard?”

Todd raises his eyebrows. “‘ _Crockery’_. That's British even for you.”

“And that's evasive,” Dirk counters, padding over to stand behind Todd as he continues his quest for a coffee cup. “Even for _you_.”

“I just… couldn't find a mug. It's nothing.”

“The same _nothing_ that's been making you avoid the kitchen for the last two days?”

Todd spins round, looking at him in surprise. Dirk's crowded in so close he has to tilt his head back a bit. “How did you-?!”

“I'm a detective! I detected.”

Shit. It’s pretty easy to forget sometimes that Dirk isn’t as dumb as he pretends to be. "I just," Todd blushes, ducking his head and jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the reflective… _everything_. "I don't need to be reminded how gross I look in the mornings, okay?"

Dirk frowns. "But you don't look gross."

Todd raises his eyebrow.

"What? You don't! You never look gross. You're perfect."

Todd's stupid heart skips a beat. "Shut up..."

"It's true!"

"Well- you have to say that," says Todd, shrugging in frustration. "You're my boyfriend. You're... _biased_."

"Want me to prove it?"

"...What?"

"Prove it. Prove to you that you're perfect. I can do it!"

Right. Sure he could. Todd rolls his eyes, but honestly, it's sweet of him to try. He could humour him. Just for a bit. "Okay. Sure. Prove it."

He half expects Dirk to go rummaging round for a piece of paper to start a bullet-pointed list. Or maybe just start pointing at bits of Todd's face and appreciatively babbling.

But instead he takes Todd by the shoulders, turning him round to face the mirrored wall, and smiles as their eyes meet in it. "Then stay right there, and watch."

_Watch...?_

And then Dirk, not breaking eye contact, presses his lips softly to Todd's jaw. And again. Again, lower this time. He trails them across his jawline, up to his earlobe, down his neck, lingering only a second before moving on to the next.

Todd sighs, warmed by the familiar gentle sensation, and lets his eyes drift closed to bask in it.

And gets a much less gentle prod in the ribs for his trouble.

"Todd!" Dirk chastises between pecks. "Watch!"

"Okay, okay, jeez," Todd grumbles, reluctantly opening his eyes. Dirk makes a satisfied hum against his throat before pressing another kiss there. Todd watches the movement, swallowing thickly as he observes Dirk sealing his plush lips over his skin time and again.

He catches sight of his own Adam’s apple bobbing as he does so, and cringes. "Dirk, why do I have to-"

"Shhhhhh," Dirk murmurs against his skin, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Just watch. You'll see."

Todd sighs, but doesn't look away. Dirk's going somewhere with this... Hopefully.

The kisses continue, down his neck to the edge of his shirt, which Dirk tugs aside with his thumb to gain access to the skin beneath. Todd's so busy watching that hand, and the mouth chasing it, that he doesn't realise what Dirk's other hand is doing until it's already crept up under his shirt, fingers grazing lightly over his skin and eventually coming to rest- " _Ah_ ," he gasps, arching his back as Dirk lightly tweaks his nipple, rolling it between his fingertips in a playful, curious fashion as his mouth continues its explorations. His head rolls back onto Dirk's shoulder as he groans.

Once again, Dirk is quick to correct him. "Look," he says, softer this time as he guides Todd's face forward again.

Todd obeys, watching Dirk's face in the mirror as he continues his amorous assault on his throat, fingers playing him like a fiddle. Todd can't see exactly what he’s doing, can't see much except a moving lump beneath his shirt, but whatever it is it's _electrifying_.

Dirk, seeing a problem with this, momentarily drops both hands to tug at the hem of Todd's shirt. He raises his arms and lets Dirk pull it over his head unquestioningly, hearing it crumple to the floor several feet away as Dirk tosses it carelessly over his shoulder.

Now Todd can see his own bare chest in the mirror. He feels a sudden powerful urge to fold in on himself, anything to hide away.

But more importantly, now he can see _exactly_ what Dirk is doing to him.

All thoughts of escape fly from his head as he watches Dirk's slender fingers pick their way across his skin, strolling and nudging and pinching, blunt nails scraping, driving each of his nerve endings crazy with the barest contact. His hands wander up, toy with his nipples until Todd's gasping against him and then down, down across his chest and stomach, tickling his diaphragm with torturous feather-light touches and down, down, _down._

Finally his thumbs hook under the waistband of Todd's boxers. He looks to him in the mirror, hesitating, waiting for the go-ahead.

Heart racing like a rabbit, Todd nods in assent.

Dirk nods in return, and carefully slides the boxers down off of Todd's hips, letting them fall to the floor.

Todd catches sight of himself, fully bared to Dirk, pale skin almost goddamn translucent in the sunlight through the window aside from the deep flush across his cheeks, his chest, his half-hard cock-

He shakes his head, stepping back. He can't handle it suddenly. He feels raw, exposed. Vulnerable. The sight of his own body, completely bared and already helplessly turned-on in the mirror while Dirk stands behind him, still dressed in his soft pajamas and...

Then Dirk sighs, presses forward, aligning their bodies. Todd feels something blunt and stiff awkwardly prodding him in the tailbone.

"Perfect..." Dirk murmurs, pressing another kiss to Todd's neck as he rolls his hips, dragging the head of his cock against the cleft of Todd's ass, the soft cotton of his pants rasping against his suddenly hypersensitive skin.

_Oh._

Todd freezes, breath catching, dick jumping, any thoughts about going limp with embarrassment forgotten. Dirk moves again, whimpering with want as his clothed cock grazes Todd's hole, and Todd can't help but return the sound. _"Fuck..."_

Dirk rolls his hips again. And again. Todd feels his blood rushing south. It's already getting harder to breathe.

He's just getting used to the idea that he might come from a two minute semi-clothed dry-hump like an inexperienced teenager when Dirk pulls back, breaking contact. Todd whines at the loss of his cock doing perfect, delicious things, and then clamps his mouth shut because _shit_ that was embarrassing. Defying Dirk's orders he looks down, gritting his teeth, hands tightening on the counter.

Dirk's hands find his jaw again, righting his head and gently rubbing his cheek. "Todd?"

"Sorry," Todd mutters, shaking his head. "I'm..."

Dirk meets his gaze quizzically in the mirror.

"I just... That sound. That, that was kinda embarrassing. I'll shut up now."

Dirk shakes his head. "No. Don't shut up." He smiles teasingly, nuzzling Todd's hair. "I want to hear you."

 _Shit_.

Todd gulps, and nods. "O-okay."

Dirk grins and plants a firm kiss to Todd's hair before ruffling it. Todd gives a surprised bark of laughter at the goofy gesture, tense shoulders slumping. He feels himself unknotting, Dirk’s sunny smile warming him up from the inside out, smoothing out the tension even as he works to build it back up with his hands on his skin, his cock against his ass, his mouth against his pulse point and travelling lower, lower, across his shoulder, down his back, hands trailing along behind it as he sinks slowly to his knees and, hands kneading Todd’s buttocks, spreading them apart and-

_FUCK._

Todd can’t help it. He yelps, squirms as Dirk flicks his tongue lightly, experimentally against his hole. _“Dirk…”_

“Keep watching!”

Todd does as he’s told. He can barely see Dirk in the mirror, just the top of his head as he does- _ah!_ That. Fuck. The rest of him is obscured below the counter. The counter Todd’s clinging to like a life raft, white-knuckled, chest heaving, looking so fucking _wrecked_ already and they’ve barely gotten started

Dirk’s tongue flicks out again, and Todd lets out a moan louder than he’d ever thought himself capable of.

 _“Fuck,”_ Dirk exhales, warm breath dancing spine-tinglingly against Todd’s sensitive skin. “Yes. Just like, that, just- _yes._ ”

“Don’t stop,” Todd begs, rolling his hips back. He wants to be embarrassed that he’s already begging but he just can’t quite swing it right now. _“Please.”_

“Well,” says Dirk, and Todd can hear that smarmy grin in his voice. “Since you ask so nicely…”

He plants a playful, chaste kiss on Todd's right buttock like a gentlemanly peck on a maiden's hand, before once again pushing it aside and doing something a whole lot _less_ chaste with his tongue on Todd's centre.

Jesus _Christ_ that mouth was going to be the death of him.

Or at least, it was if his fingers didn't get there first.

The first gentle brush of Dirk’s fingers against his sensitive skin hits him like a jolt of electricity (and he should fucking know). And it doesn’t get a whole lot less intense as Dirk comes back for more, eagerly, curiously exploring with his fingertips even as his tongue continues its playful ministrations.

Both, however, pull back out of reach every time Todd tries to rock back into them because Dirk is a fucking _tease._

"Dirk," he gasps, desperately chasing the sensation as Dirk's fingers retreat once again. "Dirk, please-"

"Please what?" Dirk asks innocently, dropping another light kiss beside Todd's hole, teasing the rim.

Bastard knew _exactly_ what he was doing. Holding back. Making Todd beg for it.

Fortunately for him, Todd dropped his pride ten minutes of foreplay ago.

"Please," he repeats, clenching his hands on the counter. "Just _fuck me_ , already."

He hears Dirk's breathing falter. Good. Todd isn't gonna be the only one losing his mind. He cants his hips back invitingly, impatiently, waiting for Dirk to make his next move because if Todd does it he'll take his eyes off the mirror, and if he does that Dirk might stop what he's doing and... No. Not an option. "Dirk," he whines again, pleading.

"Right," says Dirk, voice dry and an octave higher than usual. He clambers to his feet, finally popping back into Todd's line of sight in the mirror, cheeks flushed bright pink. "Yes, absolutely. Let me just get- things. Wait right here!" He reaches forwards, patting Todd's hands where they rest on the counter. "Right. Here."

“Yeah… yeah, okay,” Todd gasps, keeping his feet planted and his eyes obediently on himself in the mirror as Dirk darts away to the bedroom. He loses sight of him behind a wall, but the sounds of chairs and houseplants being knocked aside follow him. Todd would probably laugh, if he wasn’t so certain he was about to fucking _explode._

He takes a deep, steadying breath, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He could look away now. Dirk isn’t here to correct him. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know if it’s curiosity or he just feels so fucking compelled to do exactly as Dirk says, but he stares himself down in the polished chrome. He looks so pale in the sunlight, alone and naked, bared to the world. Pale everywhere except the parts that have gone pink and red with desire as his blood courses through his veins, everywhere except the shallow blue-tinged rings under his tired eyes, the dark tones of his sleep-ruffled hair, the flushed purple of his hard, needy cock jutting untouched in front of him, pre-come beading at the tip.

He can’t look anymore. Can’t look at himself, rough and sallow, colourless save for the rich hues of arousal painted over him, evidence of Dirk, of the effect Dirk has on him, the _power_ he has over him to be able to bring him practically to his knees without ever touching him once. Pink and purple and yellow in the sunlight, absorbing Dirk and all his colours, getting him under his skin and letting him slowly, deliciously _destroy_ him. It’s too much. He can’t look.

But he couldn’t look away even if he tried.

He whimpers, pinned in place by weak-kneed, overwhelming desire to wait for Dirk and see _exactly_ what he does next. To see how much better it can possibly feel, how much longer Dirk can make this slow, irresistible push towards the edge last before they both topple over it.

 _Jesus Christ he is so fucking_ screwed.

“Dirk,” he whines, and he’s long past caring about noise complaints from the neighbours because if Dirk doesn’t get back here and finish what he started right this fucking second he’s going to go _insane_.

“Coming!” Dirk’s cheerful voice rings from the bedroom, amidst the sound of various zippers being yanked open and clothes being thrown aside. Todd can only imagine the chaos he’s leaving in his wake. “Just looking for- a-ha!”

He bounds back into kitchen a few seconds later, proudly throwing a condom and a travel-sized bottle of lube down on the counter by Todd like a Labrador retrieving a ball.

It’s so cute Todd wants to fucking kick something. _“Jesus.”_

“Right,” says Dirk, clapping his hands together. “Where were we? Ah!” he leans in, reaching up to stroke Todd’s hair with one hand as the other drops behind him. “I remember…”

He nudges Todd’s spit-slick hole with his index fingertip, teasing the rim, and Todd feels any endearment he felt fly out the window.

 _“Fuck,”_ he grits out, rolling his hips impatiently. Dirk’s finger pulls back, dancing smartly out of reach, and Todd could just fucking _cry_ with frustration. _“Dirk!_ For fucks sake, get on with it!”

“Bossy,” Dirk tuts, pressing a playful kiss to the nape of Todd’s neck. But he reaches for the lube, popping the cap and squirting a bit out into his palm, rubbing it between his fingertips before returning to his teasing. This time he dips his finger in a little further, just to the first knuckle, slicking up Todd’s entrance as he does so.

It’s still not enough, but it’s progress.

He works Todd open in slow, torturous pumps of his finger, retracting it only to add more lube and start the process again. By the time he adds a second finger Todd’s a sweaty, babbling mess on the counter, desperately rocking back against Dirk and finding his attempts foiled by a firm hand on his hips, pinning him in place. His nerve endings are on fire, he feels superheated to the touch, open, exposed, vulnerable like a bug under a microscope, watching himself fall apart at Dirk’s hands like a voyeur in the mirror.

He’s never been so turned-on in his fucking life.

"Dirk, I'm-" Todd breathes, fighting the desire to close his eyes. "I'm ready. Please."

Dirk retracts his fingers, wiping them off on his shirt- which he's still wearing. No fair. Not enough mutual nakedness. Then he reaches for his pants, tugging the elasticated waistband down. Not all the way, just enough to allow his cock to spring free. Todd catches just the briefest glimpse of it, before Dirk once again adjusts his position to stand directly behind him, and his mouth waters in anticipation.

It takes just a few seconds of clumsy fumbling to get the condom wrapper torn open. A few more to get it on. Todd wants to help, but that would mean looking away. He's not to look away. So he holds his breath and listens to Dirk as he gets himself ready, heart hammering in his throat in anticipation of what comes next...

Then Dirk's hands are on his hips, his lips on his neck, and the blunt head of his cock is nudging against his entrance, smearing more lube and slowly, slowly, pushing in.

"Fuck..." Todd breathes, feeling his body clench around the intrusion. The stretch is there, but it's just the right side of painful, a deep, satisfying burn. He closes his eyes and basks in it. Just for a moment, while Dirk sinks in, getting settled.

"Todd."

He opens his eyes. Meets Dirk's in the mirror.

Dirk, breathing laboured, manages a smile. _"Watch."_

He readjusts his hold on Todd's hips, draws his own back, and starts to move.

Todd moans, letting Dirk move him where he needs to be, cradling his hips in his hands and rocking them together. It's slow, sweet. He can see the tenderness in it reflected in Dirk's big blue eyes in the mirror, watching Todd's every reaction with fondness and undisguised awe.

It's romantic. It’s low-light, candlelit dinner, roses and chocolate fucking. The kind of fucking you could easily call ‘making love’ with minimal cringing- if it’s _ever_ possible for that phrase to be said with minimal cringing.

But it doesn't take long for Todd to realise he needs a little more right now.

"Dirk," he says, barely above a whisper. "Please."

"What do you want?" Dirk asks, nuzzling the base of Todd's neck.

"More," says Todd, swallowing. "Faster. Harder, just- more. Please."

Dirk's movements, if anything, get even slower. "More?" He asks, once again the picture of innocence.

Little shit.

Todd feels like he's about to spontaneously combust. "Dirk!"

Dirk grins impishly, and Todd finds himself seized with the powerful urge to spin round and punch him in the nose.

And then Dirk renews his grip, pulls out, and slams back in forcefully, and Todd lurches forward as it knocks the very air from his lungs. _"Fuck!"_

He doesn't have time to catch his breath before Dirk's doing it again. And again. Harder, faster, pounding Todd from behind, gradually increasing his pace and taking no prisoners.

It's fucking _glorious_.

Todd moans, loudly, fingers clenching on the countertop. He can feel his sweaty palms scrambling for purchase, feel every powerful thrust slide them forward another inch. He's losing his grip, losing the ability to fucking stand because his knees are ready to buckle.

His arms give out first, sweaty palms slipping out from under him. He falls forward onto his elbows, whining as Dirk thrusts again, going impossibly deeper thanks to the new angle. " _Fuck_ , fuckfuckfuck, _Dirk-_!"

" _Todd_ ," Dirk moans brokenly, pace not slowing.

Another thrust shoves Todd's hips forward, nudging his oversensitive and underappreciated cock into the side of the counter, and he hisses. "Oh my- oh my god, Dirk, fuck -"

"So good," Dirk bites out, hand sliding up from Todd's hip to press into his lower back, pinning him to the counter. "Todd, Todd, you're- _god_ , you're perfect..."

Todd meets his own gaze in the mirror, red-faced and wild-eyed, mouth flopping open as his entire body lurches forward again and again.

Too much.

He lets his head flop down, presses it into the cool countertop with a whimper.

"Todd..."

He says it so softly Todd almost misses it. He clenches his fist, nods against the marble. "I'm - I'm fine. I'm okay."

"Can you- can you look at me?"

He could. But it sort of feels like his head's glued to the counter. "Mm."

Dirk releases his hip and brings his hand up to his hair, lacing his fingers softly through the strands. Todd sighs, tilting his head into the feeling.

And then Dirk tightens his grip, catching a fistful of Todd's hair, and uses it to lever his head up off the counter.

Todd chokes on his arousal as he meets Dirk’s gaze in the mirror, head pulled back, throat taut, eyes hooded as they seek out Dirk’s, follow the convulsive bob of Dirk’s Adam’s apple as he swallows thickly, like he’s salivating over the sight of Todd, laid out before him, beneath him, naked and open and taking everything Dirk’s got.

“Look, Todd,” he whispers, burying his nose in Todd’s hair, inhaling the sweat-slick scent of it as he drives in deeper, harder. “Look at you…”

Todd obeys unquestioningly, whining in the back of his throat. He never knew he could look so… _debauched._ Spread out like a feast, being devoured by Dirk and his hungry eyes, hungry hands, grabbing and pawing and _claiming._ There's something raw and unkempt in him now, in the untamed mop of morning hair, plastered to his forehead by sweat, in the set of his shoulders and jaw. But also soft, tender, every touch laden with reverence like he can’t quite believe that he gets to do this. Like Todd’s the most rare, precious, beautiful thing in the world and he’s lucky just to touch him. Todd feels every touch, firm or feather-light, just like he feels the coarse chafe of Dirk's sweat-sodden clothes on his back and legs, and every single one of Dirk's hot breaths on the back of his neck.

"Todd," Dirk whimpers, babbling in Todd's ear as his thrusts, still deep and forceful, begin to stutter out of rhythm. "God, you're... I never thought- I mean, I never even _dreamed_ I could ever have... this, you, you're everything I ever... God, _look_ at you! You fit around me so perfectly and- and we _fit_ ! Together! I can't believe it! I can't believe how lucky I am, I can't believe- after all this time, all those years, all that uncertainty and fear and _change_ that I get to... That I get to have you, and, and keep you and do- do _this_ , I just..."

He releases Todd's back, unpinning him, and instead wraps that arm across his chest, pulling him close and almost to standing. Todd gasps as he slides back into Dirk's body, impaling himself on his cock as Dirk starts to rut shallowly up, short, staccato jerks of his hips, driving Todd forward and up, pressing his untouched cock to the side of the counter and driving him slowly insane with the smooth, cool friction it provides. And still Dirk keeps one hand in his hair, pulling his head back towards him, forcing Todd to look through heavy lidded eyes at himself, held safe upright in Dirk's arms as he drives into him, dismantles him piece by glorious piece. As he hangs, boneless and pliant, and takes everything Dirk has to give. As he gives himself over completely.

"I love you," Dirk breathes, breath dancing across the shell of Todd's ear, voice settling quietly, comfortably into a corner of his brain that was just waiting for it. "I love you, Todd. I love you, I love..."

He repeats it, over and over like a prayer, like a mantra. As if by saying it enough he could tattoo it onto Todd's skin and commit it to eternal, universal fact, giving Todd no cause to doubt again in his life.

What little restraint Todd was still holding onto crumbles.

He cries out, but he's not even sure what he's saying. Could be gibberish. Could be Dirk's name, over and over, bent beyond recognition in the haze of his lust. Dirk makes an overwrought sound in the back of his throat and pounds desperately up into Todd, wringing as many cries and grunts and whimpers from his taut, hypersensitive body as possible. And still he holds Todd's head close, whispers sweet, sinful, ardent nothings in his ear because Dirk runs his mouth no matter the activity.

 _God_ , Todd loves that big stupid mouth of his. Loves when it runs a mile ahead of his mind, loves its smiles, every one of them. Loves the fucking dumb shit it says, and the cute shit, and the crazy nonsense and the brilliant, brilliant things wrapped in smarmy British sarcasm. Loves the way it feels on his lips, on his body, the things it does to him. The things _Dirk_ does to him, the way he makes him feel- bright and exhausted and frustrated and _alive_ and...

Loved.

"It's okay, Todd," Dirk says softly, voice embracing him as tangibly as his arms, kissing Todd's cheek because tears have started to roll down it. "It's okay..."

"Dirk..." Todd chokes out, reaching up to grip Dirk's arm wrapped over his chest. Watching himself cling to Dirk in the mirror, the taller man wrapped around him, surrounding him, filling him, real as the marble counter and warm as the morning sun. “I'm…”

“So…” Dirk breathes, nuzzling ever so softly into Todd's neck. “You're so good- so good for me-”

“Dirk…”

“So good- feel so good and, and, _god_ , look at you! I can't believe…” he kisses his throat, chases his pulse. “That- that you're here, and you're mine, and… and you're…”

Dirk meets his gaze in the mirror, with heart-stopping intensity.

And then it melts, giving way to the softest smile Todd's ever seen, breaking across his face like the sunrise.

“You're perfect.”

 _Perfect_.

It’s not the first time he’s used that word today. Not even the first time in this encounter, but it feels… different. _Powerful._ Dirk's sweet, sincere voice echoes in Todd's mind, burning like a brand on his heart as he shakes apart completely.

He comes with a hoarse, keening cry of Dirk's name, untouched, body arching and fists clenching as his release spatters the polished counter, droplets of pearlescent come decorating his own sweaty handprints on the marble.

And with Dirk's hands holding him securely in place, he watches every second of it.

Watches his own body arch to the sky as if pulled by an invisible thread, tenderly bound to the earth by Dirk’s arm across it, Todd’s knuckles white around it. His hips, his stomach, his throat stand out starkly, skin pale and taut as he reaches his crescendo. His hair sticks rough and slick across his forehead, framing his face as it falls finally, blissfully slack.

And Dirk, watching the process with wide eyes and shortness of breath, isn’t far behind.

He clenches down on Todd’s hair and shoulder, fingernails biting in slightly as he finishes deep inside him with a broken whine and a long, ragged sigh.

For a long, crystallized moment they just hang together in limbo, suspended in the moment and the morning light like flies in golden amber.

But time, reality and of course, gravity, soon reassert themselves.

Todd grunts as Dirk, with a spent groan, collapses into him like a tonne of bricks, trapping his arm between Todd’s chest and the counter, and Todd’s body beneath his own. _“Fuck…”_ he breathes into Todd’s neck, giggling a little manically as he presses a soft kiss against it. “Todd…”

“Dirk,” he mumbles, fidgeting slightly. Dirk’s arm may be keeping him mostly off of the hard counter, but this is _not_ a comfortable position. “Heavy.”

Dirk makes a valiant effort to lift himself slightly, but he doesn’t go far. Todd can still feel the warmth of his pliant body all up his back as he releases Todd’s hair to prop himself on his elbow. He doesn’t release it completely, though- just keeps his fingers loosely wrapped in the short strands as his tense wrist goes limp. Along with the rest of him as he slumps heavily back onto Todd. “Oof. Yes, just… I, um, might need a moment.”

Todd snorts. “You didn’t even try.”

“ _Excuse me,_ I’ve been trying _very_ hard, thank you very much,” Dirk huffs, craning his neck to meet Todd’s eyes in the mirror. “Doing all the… heavy lifting.”

“‘Heavy lifting’? Thanks.”

Dirk rolls his eyes. “Oh, you know what I mean. We both know who just did all the work- you didn’t even do _half_ the work, you lazy man, Todd!”

“You didn’t _let_ me do any work,” Todd counters, lightly smacking Dirk’s arm. Not enough to dislodge it from his head, though- he likes it just where it is. Actually, mild discomfort aside, he kind of likes everything just where it is. Dirk’s chest against his back, heartbeat drumming a quickfire rhymth against his spine. Dirk’s legs, slotted neatly between his own, damp pyjama fabric clinging between them. Dirk’s cock, warm and softening, nestled deep inside him, intimate connection unbroken. Fitting perfectly against Todd’s every curve and contour.

Dirk seems to read his mind, smiling at him in the mirror as he begins to slowly card his fingers through his damp hair. “Look at you,” he whispers, reverent, kissing his neck again. “God, just… _look_ at you!”

It doesn’t sound much like an order. But Todd obeys, anyway. God, he’s… _a mess._ Sweaty, breathless, pink and red and shiny all over, a stray fleck of come from the counter adorning his cheek.

It’s… not as bad a view as he was expecting.

“See?” Dirk beams, eyes crinkling at the corners as he nuzzles the back of Todd’s neck. “Perfect.”

He frees himself from Todd’s hair to find his hand, twining their sweaty fingers on the countertop. “It’s like you were made for me…”

Todd surveys their reflection, his body perfectly bracketed by Dirk’s, loose-limbed and languid as the sun paints them in the warm hues of a new day.

“Okay,” he grumbles, squeezing Dirk’s hand infinitesimally. “You might be onto something…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1Or at least, without incident by _Dirk_ standards. There was a thing with a horse in the cargo hold, but that wasn't really worth mentioning in the grand scheme of things.  [ return to text ]  
> 


End file.
